


And I Must Follow, If I Can

by ToDefineIsToLimit



Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/F, Friends to Lovers, Hobbits, Inspired by The Lord of the Rings, M/M, Magic, Mutual Pining, No Canon-Typical Worms (The Magnus Archives), Protective Martin Blackwood, Road Trips, Slow Burn, Swords, apocalypse prevention, but bad roadtrip ya know?, whoo boys this bad boy has so much yearning in it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-27
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:07:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28355946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToDefineIsToLimit/pseuds/ToDefineIsToLimit
Summary: Jonathan Sims must bear the ring to Mordor and the duty rests squarely on his shoulders alone, but perhaps Martin can help bear Jon to Mordor.(and perhaps their friends can make sure the rest of middle earth doesn't fall apart in the mean time)Lord of the rings but gay and with tma characters because some people convinced me to write it
Relationships: Basira Hussain/Alice "Daisy" Tonner, Georgie Barker/Melanie King, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Comments: 8
Kudos: 13





	1. A Lovely, Warm Day

**Author's Note:**

> alright so first off warnings  
> -violence  
> -death  
> -some weird vaguely addiction type magical stuff which is pretty typical for both cannons  
> \- is likely to get at least as dark and contain similar themes to lotr  
> -except the orcs will be different i think, i don't like this whole thing about a species being evil so I'll work that out later but probably the bad army will be bad people from all over middle-earth  
> -I'll put warnings for things beyond this in later chapters if it should come up
> 
> now some notes on the au
> 
> first off please imagine chacters as more or less the same to how you normally imagine then just with the heights of their stated species because gerry can't be old, i just don't like it
> 
>  **some casting and believe me this isn't exact, I'm just giving you a general idea of the roles they fill in the plot:**  
>  Frodo- jon  
> Sam- martin  
> Bilbo- Micheal (pre-distortion as the spiral doesn't exist here) (also nonbinary it/its pronouns)  
> Gandalf- Gerry  
> Gollum- Elias (look I know, but don't look at me like that, it works)  
> Aragorn- Melanie  
> Gimli- Basira (battleaxe Basira)  
> Legolas- Daisy  
> Boromir- Oliver Banks (no explanation here i just needed someone not evil to be this and it couldn't be Georgie)  
> Merry-Sasha  
> pippin-Tim  
> Sauron- Jonah Magnus (stinky eye man must be confined to his hell tower so i don't kill him before Jon gets to mordor)
> 
> and i think that's it!

It began on a warm day, maybe just a touch warmer than comfortable, but not markedly so, and like most days that mark the beginning of everything changing, there was nothing to give it away as such.

It was a gentle and beautiful day in the Shire and Jon only had two things on his mind. The first, his uncle Micheal’s 111th birthday party that night. The second, another boy. 

_Man_ , Jon corrected himself mentally. They were practically grown now, in their late twenties. Which, of course, is how Jon knew without a doubt that what he was feeling was real and not one of the flights of fancy people younger than him went through.

Jon was in love with Martin Blackwood.

He sighed, gazing out the window at Martin as he pulled up weeds from their garden.

He was beautiful, and from a respectable family too, which meant a great deal when one’s guardian was Micheal Shelley. Uncle Micheal had gone on a grand adventure in its younger days, and those sorts of things gave other people all sorts of ideas of what trouble one’s nephew might get up to. But Jon never had a taste for adventure. He would be perfectly pleased to never set foot out of the Shire, just live in some nice hole with Martin and his books and tea for the rest of his days. 

Martin would hold Jon and sing those songs that he always sang as he worked in the garden, but now he’d be singing for Jon rather than his voice just floating in sweetly from the window. And perhaps once a year or so they might fight so things may remain exciting.

Of course, Jon had not yet told Martin that they would be married, nor did he intend to. He was perfectly happy waiting for Martin to realize it from all the hints Jon had given.

“Er- everything okay?” Martin said, noticing Jon staring. 

Jon startled.

“What? Yes, of course. Fine. You missed a weed right there.”

Martin raised an eyebrow with a bemused smile, then shook his head a little, “Alright, Mr. Sims, I’ll see to it.”

“Yes,” Jon agreed a little too fervently, “See that you do.”

Martin turned away, a small smile on his face as he continued pulling weeds.

But, of course, you now see how incredibly dense Martin was. Jon was all but _throwing himself_ at the man and he could do nothing but smile and keep pulling weeds with an “I’ll see to it, Mr. Sims.”

‘Mr. Sims’ the title grated Jon as much as it warmed him. Most people called him by Shelley. 

He had, after all, been adopted when he was quite young, after the death of his parents. But he’d never wanted to give up his name. He remembered very little of his mother or father except for the proud way in which they’d say their family name. 

“You, Jonathan Sims,” They had said one time after he’d thrown a tantrum, “are to be a polite young man, what would Grandpa Sims say if he could see you now?”

Most people had insisted his name was Jonathan Shelley now, but Martin never had. Jon called himself “Sims” and Martin did too and it was... nice. Something they had together.

The problem came from the fact that He never called Jon anything else. They’d first met when they were both ten and from the word go it was always “Mr. Sims”. 

Jon had found himself protesting even as he felt a small swell of pride at being called something so grown up, “But I’m a kid too you can’t just go around calling me ‘mister’!” 

Martin had just shrugged, “My dad says we’re supposed to call customers by Mister or miss or sometimes Mx. like Mx. Shelley. So I have to, I think.”

But despite it all, Jon wished Martin would just call him by his name, he wondered what it would sound like coming from Martin.

"Still staring our garden friend then, little watcher?" An amused voice behind him said, and Jon jumped out of his skin and whipped around with a glare.

"I'm not ‘little’ any more than you are young, uncle," Jon said arching an unamused eyebrow. He couldn’t deny the watcher part, he had a tendency to ah… people watch a bit… and eavesdrop on things… and occasionally spy if there was any secret he really wanted to know.

"Oh be nice to me, it’s my birthday!"

"You've had one hundred and ten already, it’s barely an event anymore," Jon teased.

"Be that as it may I thought you'd be looking forward to the party."

He was but that was hardly the point he was enjoying bantering with it, "And why is that?"

"Well, first off you and I both know you've been looking for a time to ask Martin for a dance and a party's as good a time as any."

"Shhhh!" Jon hissed dragging his uncle away from the open window, "he will hear you!"

It laughed, no _giggled_ , it was too high and grating to be a laugh, "Good maybe then you'll have to actually ask him sometime this century."

"I'm waiting for him to ask me!"

"Don't do that, some other young lad will come snatch him up before you get the chance! Maybe Tim. He's a handsome young hobbit."

Jon stewed silently for a moment before it began speaking again.

"Besides that, you should also be excited about my party because there's going to be fireworks."

Fireworks? But that meant!

"Gerry's coming?" Jon demanded excitedly.

It broke into a smile, "Yes, he should be coming down the road any minute now."

Jon snatched his satchel off the table it sat on, and slid it over his head, "I have some business to take care of."

"Oh yes, I'm sure."

"I do!"

"Alright," Micheal laughed again as Jon took off running out of the hole. 

He was halfway down the walk to the road when he skittered to a stop and whipped around to look at Martin.

"You are coming to the party tonight, aren't you?"

"Of course."

"Good," Jon nodded firmly then took off running again. 

He didn’t typically do anything so undignified as run through the village like this, but these were extenuating circumstances.

You see, Gerry told the best stories, but once he got going on one, he was unlikely to stop until you understood all of the nuances and details of the situation. Which meant you only got two or three good stories out of him a visit and if Jon wanted to hear about Gerry's recent adventures he'd have to be the first one to ask. 

Otherwise, he might get stuck listening to that story about the mountain dragon that Uncle Micheal talked about all the time. And Jon simply didn't have the patience for the repetition when he knew there was more information to glean from the wizard.

He ran down the road and saw as Gerry's cart crested the hill. There was no one sitting next to him yet.

"Yes!" Jon muttered and ran up to the cart and hopped up into it, he cleared his throat attempted to sound calm and professional, "hello."

Gerry cut his gaze over to jon, "Hey kid. Come to pry into the details of my life again?" 

Jon shrugged, but the answer was absolutely yes.

Gerry just laughed and shook his head, "Alright fine, so you know how Rivendell is ruled but that one polycule of elvish river pirates?"

"Of course." His favorite tales usually centered around Rivendell, and this was sure to be a good one.

"Great, well get this…."

***

Martin was _extremely_ nervous as he stood near the food table at the party that night. 

Jon had said Martin coming to the party was good, what had he meant by that? 

Did he mean ‘good’ like "oh…. Martin _your_ coming….. Yaaaaaay that's good and totally not annoying at all."?

Or did he mean that it was good? 

Jon was standing off to the side of Gerry right now and Martin realized with a start that Jon was looking back at him. Martin smiled, a bit embarrassed, and waved weakly. Jon's eyes widened looking like he’d been caught and he took a step toward Martin, mouth opening as if to say something. Then it closed and he looked troubled. 

Martin closed half the distance but kept away from that wizard. Gerry was a kind man but Martin had also seen him throw Old Man Leitner into the ditch next to his library, and no one had believed Martin about it. So he tended to keep his distance. 

Jon’s expression steeled into determination and he approached and stopped about three feet from Martin.

He looked lovely in his party clothes.

"Good evening," Jon said stiffly.

"Hello Mr. Sims," Martin shifted, not sure what to do. So far it was still unclear if Jon wanted him here or not.

Jon looked down, "You could call me by my name, you know."

Martin froze, he could hear his heart beating in his ears, "I do."

Jon looked up, and his eyes pinned Martin in place, "No, I mean, Jon. You can call me Jon."

Martin could hardly breathe, "I-"

Martin did not, in the end, get to respond though, because the firework tent exploded.

The next several minutes were chaos as they all ran from the enchanted firework that had formed a light show of a dragon mid-air, and was sweeping low over the party. 

In the end, the only people harmed were Tim and Sasha, who’d gotten a bit singed when they set it off inside the tent.

“Tim!” Sasha exclaimed, “Why didn’t you wait till we were out of the tent?!”

“YOU HANDED ME A LIT MATCH! What was I supposed to do let it burn down to my fingers?!” 

“You could’ve blown it out!”

“You could’ve not lit the match until we were ready!” Tim shot back.

Martin was about to intervene when a long shadow fell across his friends.

He raised his eyes slowly to look at the towering form of Gerry, as he picked Tim and Sasha up by the backs of their shirts and carried them like kittens to a pair of chairs at the edge of the field, muttering admonishments all the while.

By the time Martin finally though to look for him, Jon was all the way across the field, and before Martin could even begin to move toward him a hush fell over the party.

“Yes, quite, quite. Great, thank-you!” Mx. Shelley’s voice came from the stage, “And thank you all for coming!”

Mx. Shelley quickly launched into a speech about how “new doors” were opening in its life and truth be told Martin kinda…? Well, he tuned out. 

Mx. Shelley was a nice enough boss, but it tended to go on a bit, and it very rarely made much sense. So he found his mind drifting to Jon. 

He was allowed to call him Jon now. But… Martin didn’t think he would. 

He tried out the name, just mouthing it, ‘ _Jon_ ’. He’d never called him that outside of his own head. He felt his stomach tumble, remembering the way Jon had looked at him earlier.

It would be a dead giveaway, he knew. He couldn’t just _say his name_ and not sound in love with him and… even if they were friends now, and Martin was allowed to call him Jon. Martin didn’t have a chance with him romantically. 

Half the people their age in the Shire had their eye on Jon, certainly, people far better looking and more well-to-do than Martin. Jon was gorgeous and smart and he had a rich uncle and Martin was his friend. That was enough. Martin nodded to himself a little still gazing blankly at the stage.

And then suddenly Mx. Shelley just??? Disappeared??????

A gasp rose up from the crowd but quickly gave way to applause as everyone seemed to decide that this was all some joke or trick. That it was simply at it again with its mischief but… 

Martin had a not-so-good feeling about this.


	2. Staying and Going

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gerry and Micheal talk about serious matters  
> And jon and Martin are so so stupid

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's this? Me a known aro making Gerry and Micheal aro? It's more likely than your think.

Micheal scampered away from the party through the cool night air giggling to itself. It ran through the front door, not even bothering to shut it, all it needed to do was grab it's suitcase anywa-

“Great, that was really nice, now tell me, just what the _fuck_ do you think you’re doing?” The door shut behind Micheal and it jumped, it had thought it’d gotten away without being followed and it whipped around to see it's pursuer. 

It's fear melted quickly as it saw Gerry leaned against the wall next to the door with his hand dropping back to his side from the doorknob. 

His dark hair fell limply around his face and his eyes were sharp, even the tattoos seemed to bore into Micheal.

Gerry was much like Micheal in that he hadn’t aged much at all since the day he came walking by its door all those many years ago and left a mark there drawing in the dwarves. It wondered absently not for the first time if it should abandon its plan of leaving and finally ask Gerry to stay. It could buy larger chairs, and Jon liked him so why couldn’t it?

It had spent many years alone, mostly happy to turn away the many romantic offers it had received, but it wouldn’t mind if for a time it could finally have a queerplatonic partner and Gerry…

But no of course not, it had made a decision. It needed an end to this particular part of its life and Jon was old enough now.

“S-sorry what?” Micheal said, trying to get back to the moment.

“What are you doing, Micheal?” Gerry said shaking his head, “Leaving? What about Jon?”

“He’s grown, grown enough to be thinking of marriage,” It added fiddling with the ring in its pocket.

“You and I both know he’s still so young, and there’s… some weird shit going on in the world lately.”

“He’ll be fine, he has Martin, and I’m leaving everything to him," Micheal flapped its hand dismissively.

“And what about the ring? You and I both know that this isn't some natural youthful look. That’s one of the really fucky rings.”

“I’ll- I’ll be leaving that to him too,” Micheal said with an unsure nod. It didn’t want to of course, what had that little brat ever done to earn such treasures when he’d-

No. Not Jon. Jon hadn’t done anything, he’d never asked for this and that was the very reason it was leaving it to him. He wouldn’t use it and he’d be safe from it.

It felt ice cold in Micheal’s hand and it withdrew from its pocket with a soft hiss.

“What will happen to you?” Gerry said, coolly. His tone almost didn’t betray the fear in it, almost.

“I’ll die,” It said gently, “As I probably should’ve done a while ago.”

“You don’t have to use the ring, you could just keep it,” Gerry said, pushing himself off the wall and going to the window. His back faced Micheal but even from this angle, he looked tense.

Micheal sighed, “That’s not how these things work and you know it.”

“Yeah… I suppose they don’t. Where will you go?”

“I think I’ll visit the elves, and maybe the dwarves, I heard Gloin had a daughter.”

“Yeah, her name’s Basira,” Gerry said with a chuckle in his voice, “She’s got more sense than most of middle earth combined I’d say.”

“I’d like to meet her,” It said.

“She’d call you an idiot.”

“She’d be right,” It laughed.

Gerry didn’t respond and the room was quiet for a long moment.

Finally, he spoke, “When do you leave?”

“Now. Everything’s packed," It picked up its suitcase off the table in front of it, "I waited till Jon ran to greet you earlier and prepared everything then.”

“Won’t you say goodbye to him?”

“No, he’d only yell at me for leaving, and in the end, he’d convince me not to.”

“Maybe I should bring him here then,” Gerry laughed mirthlessly, finally he turned to face Micheal again, eyes shining but face dry.

Micheal sighed and shifted its suitcase hands, "Keep an eye on him please? Shouldn't be too hard with all those extra ones," it tried for joking about his tattoos like old times but a muscle in Gerry's jaw just twitched 

"Gerry… you could come with me," it said hand on the doorknob.

Gerry sighed, "I'll- I'll be joining you soon, someone should explain this to Jon properly. And I've got something to look into."

"Alright," it opened the door.

"Micheal, the ring," Gerry said tiredly.

"I know," It hadn't forgotten but it hoped he would.

"Leave it or don't, it's your choice but make one. And no matter what I want, I think we know which is the right choice, right?"

It nodded nervously.

Gerry approached and for the first time in a long while his size scared it. It scrambled back, it's back hitting the door frame.

"Micheal, just put it on the table," Gerry said gently and Michael knew the thrill of fear that went through it wasn't its own.

It reached into its pocket with shaking hands and withdrew the ring, angry and burning cold. The ring seemed to almost retreat from its fingers. But it pulled it from its pocket and set it on the table. 

It sighed in relief at it being done with.

"Good," Gery smiled a little if a bit tiredly, "now you go on, Jon will probably be home soon."

"And you'll follow me soon?" It asked, now a bit nervous.

Gerry nodded, "soon as I can."

It nodded and in a final impulse, it rushed forward and buried its face in Gerry's chest, wrapping its arms around his middle. And Gerry hugged it back and god that was nice. 

And with that, it left.

***

Jon shuffled everyone away from the party quickly after the speech somewhat excited to ask his uncle how it did that. 

He found Martin standing near the edge of the field.

"Can I walk you home?" Martin asked, looking down at the dirt around his feet and scuffing his foot against it.

"If you like," He said with a nod, wondering if the warmth in his face was showing.

Martin offered him an elbow and Jon took it feeling like he might implode. How much could he lean into Martin under the pretense of being chilly? 

As they started to walk Jon realized that this was the longest they had touched ever.

"So Mx. Shelley disappeared," Martin chuckled.

"Yes, it certainly made a scene didn't it?" Jon said, shaking his head. But his uncle wasn't what he wanted to be using these precious few moments where he was alone with Martin to be talking about.

"Martin?" Jon said softly, not sure how to broach this topic without giving away his hand.

After Jon didn't continue Martin finally said, "Yes, Mr. Sims?".

Jon winced, did Martin not want to call him Jon then? Was his kindness merely professional?

Jon sighed and pushed on, "Why have you never dated?"

Martin looked down at him surprised, "I uh, well honestly Mr.Sims I've had a crush on the same guy since I was a little kid, He's just never shown interest."

Oh, so Jon had no chance then, great.

"Ah… and…. No one else has ever caught your eye?" He said hoping it didn't come out as a sigh.

Martin shook his head and half shrugged, "Not really, there are other pretty people of course but never anyone I wanted to date."

"I see."

"How 'bout you? You haven't dated anyone either."

"Bold of you to assume it was my choice. It seems no one is particularly interested in me," Jon laughed mirthlessly.

"Don't be ridiculous, Mr. Sims. Everyone is interested in you," Martin rolled his eyes, "For all the people-watching you do, you don't understand other people's feelings toward you at all."

Jon just shook his, "Martin, if that were true I'm sure someone would have said something by now. Or have demonstrated their affections in some way."

"Oh like, by doing things for you to show you they care?" Martin asked with an edge of snark to his tone.

"Yes, something like that."

Martin just sighed, "Mr. Sims, I say this as your friend. You're an oblivious idiot."

Jon blinked his surprise for a moment as they stopped on the road in front of Jon's hole. 

Jon opened his mouth to respond.

"Kid, say good night to your boyfriend and get in here," Gerry's voice came shouted from the door.

"He's not my boyfriend!" Jon said quickly   
And at the same time, Martin said, "we aren't dating!"

"Whatever, just get in here kid, we need to talk."

Jon turned to Martin, "I apologize."

"It's alright, I'll see you tomorrow, Mr. Sims, G'night Mr. Gerry."

Gerry waved.

"Good night, Martin." Jon went inside, feeling more than a little put-out, "What's going o-"

"Your uncle's left. He's leaving everything to you. Including his fucked-up-if-true ring."

Jon blinked.

"Sorry uh- bit much, that. Here let me explain…"

***

"So…" Jon said after his full explanation, "you think that this is one of those rings."

Gerry shook his head looking at the ring who's brass band was glinting in the moonlight, "No, Kid. This is one of them, the only question is which."

"How- well, how do we tell?"

"I'm leaving to find out. Then I'll be meeting with your uncle and I'll send a letter to you as to whether it's elfish or dwarvish."

"And I'm supposed to just stay and... what? Wait? No, Gerry, I have to go too- I have to find out!"

Gerry gave him a stern but kind look, "Jonathan Sims, there are many things out there in this wide world that you don't understand yet and you still have a life to live here."

Jon sat and stared at Gerry, a long moment. He didn't realize how much he would miss being called 'kid' until Gerry said his name.

Jon looked away unable to hold Gerry's gaze any longer, "Will Uncle Micheal ever come home?"

Gerry sighed, twisting the white ring on his finger, "No. No, I don't think it will but if you give me a letter, I'll deliver it to your uncle and he can reply in the same letter that I'll send about the ring. That way you two can say goodbye."

"Oh…" Jon said softly, "I- thank you, Gerry. I'll get to writing. Will you stay for tonight?"

"I can’t-” Gerry broke off and Jon frowned and his face softened, he sighed, “... See any reason why not. Just for tonight though.”

Jon smiled, " Thank you."

"Whatever, get to writing, Kid."

**Author's Note:**

> Hope this is good so far!
> 
> also, I have some other TMA fics you could read while you wait for an update if you like


End file.
